Fallen Leaf
by Temeraria
Summary: We can't live without a purpose. That's all we posses." - Aiko.


Staring at the ground for an endless amount of time, Aiko had no option than to drop her weapon. She raised her right hand, her bleeding hand shaking violently. There had been no other option; anything else would've resulted in immediate obliteration. The thought of dying made her insides twist into a mortifying knot. She had to accomplish her lifelong mission, she had to end what she started, and she had to start what she intended. Those were Aiko's intentions; not to drop her weapon.

Then she heard it, how her weapon carelessly made contact with the stone. The echo that followed after numbed her senses; she felt her breath get caught within her throat, as though something was blocking her wind pipe. She felt her ravaged figure collapse, her knees joining her forgotten weapon. Blood oozed out of her wounds, she held no pride within them. She felt disgusted with herself.

"What's it going to be, Aiko?" the ominous voice portrayed no emotion. Defeated, with no traces of dignity, Aiko continued to kneel there, her body drenched in the foul scent of blood and sweat. Her mind was sluggish, working at an immensely slow pace. She tried to rack her mind for another option, but the answer was always the same: annihilation. She could feel how her system was crashing, how her energy was slowly depleting. She could feel how she was approaching her own demise. It only took a simple sentence to stop all of this. Aiko held the power within her grasp, but attached to it was her pride, her intentions, her purpose.

Would she throw away her purpose in order to breathe a few more days?

"I…" her voice was strained, almost forced. Her mind kept wailing in pain, her conscious side constantly wandering off. Thinking was no longer an easy task; it became a torturous thing to do. In her current state, it was almost a miracle she was even breathing. "I accept."

"Take her," were the last words she heard. It only took two words to crush her, not even the intense battle that happened before was painful as those two words. She closed her eyes, letting her strained body take a short, almost inexistent, rest. Aiko could feel how her insides were torn into shreds, how her mind screeched in protest. How she threw away her purpose for a few more gasps of oxygen. She was being foolish, stupid, selfish, even. People trusted her, people who knew her held her in a high position, placing all their faith in her. People _knew _her, just like her. She didn't know herself anymore; she was a stranger to herself.

The sensation was enough to make her throw up.

The blood that alarmingly shot out of her mouth caused her lips twitch into a sick smile. She deserved this pain; after all, she traded her purpose for another pathetic day in this world. How long will her deal last? She did not know and she did not care. Her pride was wounded beyond fix, her intentions were forgotten beyond recognition, and her life had been changed – because of two words.

A pair of arms wrapped around her damaged figure, causing a snarl to erupt within her sore throat. The stranger's hands were not gentle, not at all. They were rough and somewhat clumsy, as though said stranger had no idea what to do with a wounded girl. The thought somewhat calmed Aiko's exhausted mind.

"Kisame, be careful," it was that same ominous voice. It was the voice of the man that cornered her like an animal and forced her to make a life-changing decision. How she loathed that voice. How she wanted to fight back, to stab that heartless bastard and call off the deal. But, as damaged as her pride was, she had never broken a deal, promise, or vow. She wouldn't give this man anything else, she will hold on to that last strip of pride she possessed within her grasp. She will survive and carry out her revenge.

The man named Kisame immediately cradled her with more gentleness. His actions were more calculated, he no longer harmed her; he comforted her. Aiko suffered from several wounds, few of them lethal. The rest of her wounds were minor, just deep gashes in her sides. She visibly relaxed, her muscles aching in protest with her lack of defiance. She could no longer fight back, she could no longer see tomorrow. She no longer wanted to be there. Aiko felt a growl start to grow inside of her, but she suppressed it. She was in no position to protest or fight back, after all, she did agree.

The gentle breeze that caressed her closed eye lids reminded her of her existence. She was very much alive, her shallow breathing and almost inexistent pulse supporting her theory. Ironically, she betrayed her people in order to continue living, and somehow carry out her intentions and purposes; but was now dying. She would've laughed at the irony, but now, she could barely even breathe correctly.

"I think we went a little too rough on her, Itachi." Aiko could tell this voice emanated from the man named Kisame.

Aiko was in no situation to argue, agree, disagree, or anything that involved physical and mental strain. But she was stubborn at times, including this time. "No…. fucking… shit," she coughed up. A tiny stream of red liquid flowed out of her partially opened mouth, dribbling off her chin. She felt as though a dog had ripped open her throat. But that didn't bother her, she was far to concentrated on something else to acknowledge the pain. The man that tricked her, that defeated her, was named Itachi.

"You better stay quiet, if you want to live," grumbled the man named Kisame. She vaguely opened her eyes, she felt like a huge bruise, hurting everywhere. The only thing she could see was the blue sky, the white clouds, and the rushing green that flew past them. Her body was at her limit, she could feel it. The world around her started to spin, her mind trying to fight off the nauseating sensation. Her lungs went into a frenzy of coughs, inflicting her body more pain. It got to a point when all she could hear were coughs, all she could feel was her warm blood, and all she could smell was death.

The deal had expired.


End file.
